


i'll always hold on

by happylou



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (not literally sorry), M/M, Sad Harry, hope yall enjoy, i cant believe i wrote this, im actually pretty proud, louis is an angel, promt is not mine, sorry - Freeform, this is all bellas fault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-04-30 23:56:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5184530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happylou/pseuds/happylou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Louis is working on the construction of a bridge. Harry wants to jump.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'll always hold on

**Author's Note:**

> im happy.lwt from instagram, prompt credit to @WORLDLWT on twitter (:

Louis groans and stuffs his face further into his pillow as the insistent sound of his alarm clock drills itself into his mind. His body is sore from the previous day’s work and there’s no way in hell he got enough sleep. Oh well.

 

He drags himself from his bed and into his bathroom, not even bothering to turn on the lights because he knows he’ll just regret it. His eyes haven’t been able to focus yet and everything’s a bit blurry as he accidentally rams his hip into the counter. He curses and lifts his glasses to rub at his eyes before placing them down on the counter so he can splash his face with water and hopefully wake himself up more. After doing that he grabs his toothbrush and toothpaste and sleepily scrubs at his teeth, hoping to get that odd taste out of his mouth that only sleep can provide. He plays with his bed head a little bit, rubs at his three day old scruff and then spits, rinsing his mouth and his toothbrush out. He grabs his glasses and puts them back onto his face as he walks back into his bedroom.

 

When Louis gets back into his room he looks at his bed for a solid ten minutes, debating on whether or not he should just climb back in (simultaneously quitting his job) and just stay there for the rest of his life. But no, Louis thinks as he sighs, he’s got self control. And bills.

 

He grabs the top of his duvet and drags it back up to the top of his bed. It goes about half way up, the blanket fluffy and bunched at the middle of the bed. Louis looks at it and shrugs, throwing his two pillows to the top of the bed. He figures he doesn’t really have anyone to impress and no one’s been sharing his bed with him for months.

 

Louis drags himself into the much too big kitchen area, switching on the one over head light. He winces as his eyes try to adjust to the light and makes his way over to the cabinet, making a point to move his hips so he doesn’t hit yet another counter. He reaches into the cupboard and pulls out a loaf of bread, takes out a slice and pops it into the toaster. His eyes catch the red numbers on top of his stove that read 5:57 A.M and he sighs. Lovely.

 

He hears his toast pop up and opens another cabinet to take out a small plate and a cup. He grabs his toast, opens the fridge to grab some jam and the orange juice and then sits down to a lovely (and healthy!) breakfast. His chair scrapes along the ground as he pulls it up and that must have been all the commotion needed to wake up his cat, Mia. She wanders in, eyes squinted and ears perky. If looks could kill Louis was sure he’d be dead.

 

“Mornin’ babe,” he says and smiles at her. She squints up at him and looks at his sweatpants covered leg and the table post, choosing to rub up against the table post instead of her owner’s legs. Louis takes a bite of his jam covered toast and puts a hand over his chest. “Really babe. Really. I am wounded.” She finishes scratching and flicks her tail against Louis’ leg before leaving. Probably to go shed all over Louis’ pillow.

 

Louis finishes his toast and gulps down his orange juice before returning the two refrigerated items and he walks by the sink to put his dish an empty cup in. The time is now 6:07 A.M and he walks quickly into his bedroom to get ready. He has to be at the site by 6:45 and the commute takes 20 minutes. He hurries about his bed room, slips his sweats off and works his dress pants up his legs. He slips an undershirt and his button up dress shirt on and buttons it up while standing in his closet, hip popped as he decides on a tie.

 

Most days Louis is in the office. As a project manager he isn’t needed on site too often. He’ll usually stop by once or twice a week to let to guys know he’s always watching (more like his higher up is making him go) and to catch up on the progress. Today happens to be the God awful day he has to wake up at the crack of dawn to be at the site. You love your job, he reminds himself as he brushes his teeth again and messes with his hair, you love it. He laughs into his mirror and then leaves the bathroom, turning off the light and grabbing his shoes that he keeps by the door on his way out.

 

He bounces around his bedroom, wrangling his socks onto his feet and then he’s done, his tie tight around his neck and his blazer swung over his shoulder as he shoves his phone and wallet into his back pocket and grabs his messenger bag. He looks around the pitifully empty flat and sighs; looking for any sign of Mia. (Her fur was all over his pillow but the menace was nowhere to be seen.) She doesn’t come out of her hiding place to say goodbye so Louis turns the lights off and leaves the apartment.

 

He’s the only one in the lift down (go figure, its bloody 6:20 in the morning) and the only person in the pristine lobby. The door man is stood outside but Louis doesn’t catch his eyes as he goes out the side door to get to the parking garage. His car is parked on the first level, a few cars down and once he’s inside his chilly vehicle he shivers and is quick to warm the car up. He sits for a few minutes before backing out and driving away.

 

By the time he gets to the construction site the sun has started to show its first rays and the weather has warmed a bit. He leaves his blazer in the car but grabs the hard hat from the back seat. Louis and his team were working on restoring the Southwark Bridge. It was a small rinky dink side job compared to the rest of the things they had accomplished that year but it needed to be done and they offered (were forced) to do it. They were only working on the ends of the bridge at the moment and Louis regretted it every time he was there because that meant he had to drag his ass back and forth what felt like a gazillion times a day.

 

Louis is painfully aware of the crunch underneath his dress shoes as he walks over to the trailer set up on the other side of the lot. He can hear the River Thames quietly swishing back and forth underneath the 100 foot bridge and he looks to the right to see the cranes and tractors still set up from yesterdays work.

 

His messenger bag is swung across his chest and the hard hat is under his left arm as he uses his right to open the trailer door. He’s instantly met with the chatter of his co workers and he puts on a brave face as they all cheer when he steps in.

 

“Y’alright Tommo?” One of them asks as he claps him on the back and holds his over than out. Louis shakes a little but laughs it off and holds out his hand, shaking the other mans. “Yeah mate, long time no see.” He falls into an easy chatter and that goes on for a bit until about seven when everyone has finally dragged themselves to the site. They have their opening meeting, talk about the plans for the day and Louis laughs and chats along with them while the meeting turns from serious business talk into just plain banter. It takes another 20 minutes before they actually get out onto the site and the real work starts at around eight. It’s over cast, as per usual and it will probably be raining before lunch time but that doesn’t matter by now because he feels oddly content.

 

He decides to stay in the trailer for a bit before making his “rounds,” getting some paper work done and making a few phone calls. It’s around nine thirty when he finally drags himself out to stretch his legs and walk around a bit. He stops by his car to grab his blazer, his hard hat snug on top of the hair he so carefully crafted this morning and his bag long forgotten inside the trailer. With his blazer on, he starts down the site, passing a few tractors that are pushing gravel around. He recognizes a few of this friends driving and waves to them, laughing as they honk back at him instead of waving. He makes his way towards the south end of the bridge and stands there with his hands on his hips. The A300 is buzzing with cars and he can just barely make out the other side of the bridge, 800 feet away.

 

He starts down the bridge, trying his best not to get hit by a car, his body swaying with the force as cars zoom by. He looks to his right, admiring the look of the river. He looks away from the river and down the sides of the bridge, his eyes catching on what looks like… a person? He or she is long, dressed in all black and so small in scale compared to the bridge that Louis is surprised he caught them. He squints, frowning while picking up his pace. It’s very unusual for people to be on this bridge since there’s barely enough space for two lanes of traffic going both ways.

 

As he gets closer Louis notices that the person is standing on the thick railing of the bridge, their hand gripping a thick pillar. He jogs up and stands to the left of the person, the boy he thinks, and holds onto the railing as he leans over.

 

“Um, you alright there mate?” The boy must not have noticed Louis because he jumps at the sound of his voice and his foot slips. Louis’ teeth involuntarily clench and his hand grabs onto the boy’s shin as he tries to steady himself again. They both sigh once the boys got his place again and he looks down. Louis’ mouth involuntarily gapes as he takes in the boys, the _man’s_ features. His big doe eyes are red rimmed as if he’d been crying. There are dried tears on his cheeks, fresh ones still rolling down. His cheeks are flushed and his lips puffy, darker red in some areas. Louis thinks they’re bleeding from being bitten so hard.

 

His eyebrows are furrowed and his mouth gapes for a few seconds before he finally speaks. “Yeah fine thanks um please go.” Louis frowns and does another once over of the boy. “Why don’t you come down from there and we can have a chat, yeah? Names Louis.” He tacks on a smile for good measure and holds up his hand for the boy to use. He looks at Louis’ out stretched hand and frowns before shaking his head. “No,” his head picks up speed and his bottom lip shakes like he’s about to start crying again, “no, no, cant. Please go, please just go.”

 

Louis offers him a little smile and brings his hand down. “Are you cold? I’ve got a hoodie in my car if you’d like it. You’re shaking mate.” The boy lets out a yell, one that Louis hadn’t expected and he loses his balance again. Louis’ heart stutters and he holds his hand out for the boy to use again but this time he smacks it away and grabs onto the concrete pillar he’s standing bye. “Please! Just go!!” Louis wants to but he can’t make his body move. He wants to go but at the same time he doesn’t. He crosses his arms over his chest and huffs.

 

“Sorry, but I can’t do that. You know my name, shouldn’t I atleast know yours?” The boy huffs and looks down at the river, the toes of his brown boots inching over the edge. “No. Won’t matter in a few minutes, will it?” Louis audibly scoffs and unfolds his arms, rubbing his hands together as he starts to peace what’s happening together. Tears, bridge, ledge. Is he…?

 

“Whoa, why would you say that?? You matter very much, babe, I promise. If you could just,” Louis reaches up for the third time, “come down for a few minutes? We can get you inside and have a nice chat?” The boy, Louis _still_ doesn’t know his name, hits Louis’ hand away again and Louis retracts like a wounded kitten. “God damn it! Can’t you just leave me alone? No one cares! I don’t need your crappy kindness charade. I can’t come down! I have to jump! I can’t go home, they don’t want me, no one wants me Louis.”  His tall frame shakes as he sobs harder and Louis’ heart speeds up. His body sways again as a car zooms by and Louis tries again to offer his hand, he has to get this boy down. He has to.

 

“Mate, c’mon please come down. We can talk yeah? And, and if when were done you still want to jump then, then I guess I won’t stop you.” That’s a total lie and Louis knows it but he just has to get this boy down.

 

“No one wants me, Louis. No one gives a _fuck_ about me and I just,” he lets out a loud huff, “I can’t come down. I have to go, I have to.” This beautiful boy is teetering on the edge of a massive bridge. Something in his life had gone so terribly wrong that he thought the only way to fix it was to kill himself. And if this goes terribly wrong, Louis is going to be the last person he ever talks to.

 

Louis lets out a shaky laugh and is suddenly hit with an idea. He places his hand on the ledge and lifts his foot up to place it next to his hand. Slowly he lifts his body up and the next thing he knows he’s up there with the boy, who looks over at him as if he had four heads.

 

“I – wha – are you, are you crazy?!” Louis shrugs and uses all of his willpower to not look down. “Uh, you jump I jump?” And well, Louis tried. That pulls a laugh (more of a scoff) from the boy and Louis swears he sees him roll his eyes. “Come on, please get down. At least, okay hey here just tell me your name, please?” the boy shrugs, his eyes stuck on the river down below them. “Harry,” he mumbles and Louis’ shoulders visibly relax. This is one step in the right direction.

 

“Harry,” Louis repeats to himself and he nods. “That’s a nice name, Harry.” Harry sniffles loudly next to him and Louis rubs his hands over his face. “C’mon Harry, let’s get down, yeah? We can go and, and get you some warmer clothes and talk it out? There’s a coffee shop around here with a nice warm cup of hot chocolate with your name on it.” He adds a grin and looks over to Harry again. His hand is still gripping the pillar and Louis’ not sure if he’s imagining this but Harrys feet look closer to the edge. Harry isn’t saying anything; he’s just shaking his head back and forth.

 

Louis watches almost in slow motion as Harry looks over at him, shakes his head one more time and then lifts his foot off the railing and over the water, like he was taking a step off. Louis’ body is in autopilot as he throws himself onto Harry and they fall. Back onto the concrete.

 

Louis’ body is thrown over Harry’s as if he’s trying to shield his long body. Harry’s eyes are still squeezed shut as Louis places both his hands on either side of Harry’s head and pushes himself off. Harry’s eyes fly open and he’s up and off the ground, clawing back at the ledge before Louis even knows what’s happening.

 

“Harry, no!” He shouts and gets up. His arms wrap around Harry’s waist from behind and he tugs but Harry is taller and a bit stronger and he just grabs onto the ledge and tries pulling himself up. Louis grunts and tightens his arms around Harry’s waist. He places his dust covered dress shoe on the ledge and uses all his might to pull Harry back.

 

Harrys fingers slip from the edge of the ledge and his body is thrown backwards. The next thing he knows he’s pressed against the pillar he had just been clinging onto, Louis’ smaller body pressed firmly around him. He starts wiggling, hoping to get Louis to just _let go._ It feels like the harder he wiggles to harder Louis holds him so finally he just stops and goes plaint in Louis’ arms. It shocks both of them and Louis steps away letting Harry’s body slide down the pillar. He sits on the dirty ground and pulls his legs up to his face, his body shaking harder. He’s not sure if he’d stopped crying the entire time, his head was pounding and if it weren’t for Louis, he’d be dead right now.

 

“Harry… Harry c’mon darling, c’mon talk to me.” Harry’s body shakes on the ground and Louis doesn’t know what to do. Getting him down from the ledge was easier than this. Cars zoom by and Louis can’t believe no one has stopped to poke their nose into the two boys business. Londoners usually have no idea how to mind their own business.

 

Louis crouches down next to harry and hesitantly places his hand in his hair. He slowly starts petting back and forth, his hand tangling in the brown locks as he pulls hair away from his forehead. “Harry… Harry babe I’m here, c’mon I’m here talk to me.” They sit in silence, Louis listening patiently as Harry’s breathing slows down. He can hear the boy sniffling and when Harry finally removes his head from the hide hole he’d created with his body, his eyes are rimmed a deep red, his cheeks are so flushed it looks like he’d just spent all day in the sun and Louis can’t comprehend how beautiful he looks.  

 

“Why didn’t you just let me die?” His eyes are black, rimmed with a deep green and Louis feels like he’s looking straight inside Harry as they hold an intense gaze. “There’s no point in me being here, I don’t have a home. My family, my family hates me. I can’t go back there, Louis, I keep telling you no one wants me, why won’t you believe me?! I should be dead!” He moves to stand up but Louis puts a firm hand on his shoulder and shoves him back down to the ground.

 

“Harry, hey, listen to me, listen to me.” Louis pats his blazer and then reaches inside to pull out a few tissues he had miraculously left in the jacket. He hands them to Harry and gives him an encouraging nod when the boy looks at him. Harry takes them and blows his nose loudly with one before wiping away the tears on his face. “I want you, Harry. I do. I really really do, I promise you. And if you….. You say you have nowhere to go? You can come home with me, Harry. You can. I live alone, well I mean I have a cat but she hates me so don’t get your hopes-“

 

“Cat? How old is she? What’s she look like?” Louis laughs and he puts his hand back on top of Harry’s head, petting the hair back. “You can see her later, yeah? How about we um,” Louis stops and blinks at Harry, “babe how old are you?” Louis goes to lift his hand up off of his head but Harry makes a noise and follows Louis’ hand. Louis can feel is heart grow ten times bigger in his chest and he gladly places his hand back on the boys head.

 

“M eighteen,” Harry sighs and Louis nods. Legal. That’s good. “Okay darling, that’s okay. ‘M twenty three meself, nice and old, yeah?” Harry laughs and the air around them seems lighter. It’s still overcast and Louis looks down at his right wrist, his fancy watch reading eleven fifty. Jesus, time flies when you’re saving strangers. Louis moves to stand up and Harry lets out a loud whine but neither of them says anything. He holds down a hand to the younger boy and this time Harry grabs it, nice and firm but also soft and delicate. The hand is bigger than Louis’ but softer and Louis feels like he’s having an out of body experience as Harry trips over his two two damn feet and tumbles into Louis’ chest.

 

He laughs awkwardly and bows his head as he backs up, turning the top of his torso around to whip the dust off his bum and Louis does not, he does _not_ stare at the strip of pale but simultaneously tan skin that reveals itself from under Harrys shirt while his body is contorted. He lets out a shaky sigh and then turns, dusting off himself too.

 

“Better not have stained me nice dress pants.” Louis  laughs and turns around so his bum is facing Harry. He knows theres nothing on his pants anymore but he wipes off again and turns his upper half so Harry can see his face and when they make eye contact Louis gives him a cheeky little wink. Harry gives Louis’ a shy little half smile and Louis turns around again so they’re face to face with one another.

 

Harry’s got a good four inches on Louis, maybe more (Louis doesn’t know, he was never good with numbers he just knows that Harry looks both like the tallest person and the smallest person he’s ever seen and all Louis wants to do is put him in an over sized sweater and never let him leave his bed. Perfectly normal.)

 

Louis gets the chance to do half of that when they get back to his car. Louis’ not sure how he managed to do it but he only had to grab Harry’s wrist twice (the second time he slid his hand down into Harry’s and kept it there, palm against palm and fingers wrapped around each other) to stop him from trying to run back to the ledge. They’re standing by the boot of his car and Louis (reluctantly) lets go of the boys hand to fumble with his keys. The boot pops and he leans over to dig around inside for an old uni hoodie he was sure he had left in there.

 

Harry stands by the car most definitely not looking at Louis’ bum as he leans inside the car. Half of him is yelling, absolutely screaming at Harry to go, to run and get to the ledge before Louis would even notice he’s gone and to just jump. He’s sure Louis wouldn’t be able to catch up (he’s so little but so big at the same time, so tiny but so _man_ and it makes Harry go weak in the knees.) Another part of him however is grounding him to the gravel. His legs feel frozen solid even though it’s probably only in the fifties. The last part of Harry is his grumbling stomach and he instinctively places a hand over his little belly to try and get it to stop growling.

 

He’s too late though and suddenly Louis is standing in front of him, an old hoodie in his hands and a grin on his face. “Found it.” He smiles wider and offers the hoodie up to Harry. Harry just nods and takes the hoodie from Louis. Subconsciously he’s really worried it won’t fit because Louis is small and compact, everything Harry wishes he was while Harry himself is long and broad, nothing about him compact. He pulls it down and over his broad shoulders, wiggles it down and pulls the hood off his head.

 

He’s overwhelmed by the smell of old but new, man and clean and apple? Yeah, a little bit of apple. It makes Harry look down and give himself a half smile. It’s not as tight on him as he had feared it would be; the shoulders a little loose and the belly baggy. It hurts his heart to think about Louis wrapped up in the sweatshirt, curled up on the couch with a cuppa in his hands. Harry lifts his head to make eye contact with Louis who is smiling at him, nodding his head encouragingly and giving him a proud grin.

 

“Love it,” he mutters, and Harry blinks at him.

 

“Anyways,” Louis sighs and he rubs his hands together, “how about I keep my promise and we go grab a cup?” Harry wordlessly nods and looks to the side of the car. He’s already standing on the passenger side but he doesn’t want to get into the car until Louis is in. He just stands there and waits for Louis to make the first move. Louis holds up a finger to Harry and pats his pants for his phone. He pulls it out and hands it out to Harry.

 

“Put your contact info in my phone while I run and get my bag?” He doesn’t really give Harry a choice to say yes or no as he shoves the phone into his hands and turns to run off. Harry lets himself stand and admire bum for only a few seconds (however many seconds it takes for Louis to walk from the car to the trailer, up the steps, turn around and wink at Harry and then go inside. Only a few seconds.) He then fumbles with the phone in his hand, and goes to add his number in. He doesn’t understand why Louis wants it, the chances are that Louis’ going to forget all about him after they go get their drinks and he’ll probably just delete the number from his phone. Harry debates on whether or not he should text himself from Louis’ phone so that he has the number saved and he lets himself give in, sending himself one of the red heart emojis before locking Louis’ massive phone and tapping it against his hand.

 

Hes only waiting for a minute or two more before Louis comes rushing out the door. He looks equal parts worried and happy and as soon as his eyes meet Harry’s, all the worry leaves and he smiles harder.

 

“Y’ready?” He asks and Harry gives him a nod as he stands by the passenger door. Louis climbs in the other side and unlocks all the doors. The inside of the Range Rover is soft and smells like new car and Harry sticks his hands under his thighs when he sits down, both to keep his legs off of the cold leather and to feel the leather under his fingers. “Nice,” his voice cracks and he clears his throat, “nice car.” Louis smiles at him and turns the car on; his hands instantly fly to the air controls as he flips on the heat. He presses two buttons and Harry's bum instantly starts to warm up.

 

Louis puts a hand on the back of Harry's chair as he twists his upper body to back out of the gravely drive way. Mumford and Sons is humming quietly in the background as Louis shifts gears and starts down the road. Beside him Harry has pulled down the sleeves of his hoodie so they cover the majority of his hands. His fingers nervously move across his nails as they pick at the surrounding skin and Louis can feel the tension rising.

 

“So um,” he blurts out and he panics because he hadn’t planned on saying anything. “If-if coffee isn’t really your thing they’ve um they’ve got tea and hot chocolate and like bakery items if you’re you know, hungry.” Harry doesn’t offer anything to the awkward conversation just nods and continues to mess with his nails. Louis lets out a long sigh and looks out the front window as Harry stares out the side.

 

He can’t bring himself to think this was a mistake, because he knows it wasn’t. If it weren’t for him Harry would be fish food by now (Louis shudders at the thought) and he doesn’t know which God to thank for letting Louis be at the site today. Its only twelve o’clock but Louis is exhausted and he can only think about going home and crawling into bed. With Harry. He wants Harry there too. Soft and warm and maybe freshly bathed, smelling just like Louis.

 

A loud honk sounds from behind the car and Louis notices that the cars in front of him have moved from the light and a line of cars has started behind him. He raises his hand so it’s visible through the back mirror, as an apology and hits the gas. Seconds later they’re pulling into the parking lot of the little coffee shop and Louis eases his way into a parking space. He’s quick to cut the engine and offers Harry a small smile before opening his door and hoping down. He walks around the front of the car and opens Harry’s door for him, who had been slow to unbuckle his belt. Louis lets his gaze linger on Harry’s mile long legs as he swings them out of the car door and then stumbles down onto the ground. Louis slams the door behind him and locks it before shoving the keys into his pocket with one hand as the other subconsciously goes to the small of Harry's back as the leads him into the cafe.

 

He’s calm, Louis thinks, possibly too calm. He watches as Harry looks around and then back down at his feet as the two of them get in line to order. Louis peels his hand off of Harry's back and they stand next to each other, finally making eye contact. Just as Harry opens his mouth to say something, Louis’ phone starts ringing from his back pocket. As Louis apologizes, the man behind the counter calls out next and Harry’s face contracts as if the thought of interacting with someone other than Louis physically pains him. Louis takes his phone and wallet out, slides his finger across the screen to answer the call and shoves the phone in between his shoulder and opens his wallet, sliding someone money out and shoves it into Harry's hands.

 

“Hey Matt,” Louis greets as he mouths ‘order whatever you want’ and he turns his back to Harry. Harry fumbles with the money and then looks straight ahead at the man behind the counter, eyes glued to Harry. “Next,” he calls out again and gives Harry a pointed look. Harry walks up to the counter and opens his mouth when he’s saved by Louis shouting from the corner, “Yorkshire, no sugar!” and then he returns to his phone call. The man behind the counter nods and grabs a cup, writes down the order on the cup before passing it to the lady making the drinks. He enters the order into the computer and then looks at Harry expectantly. “Will that be all?” And Harry gapes again, looking to his right and then to his left before his eyes catch onto the case with all of the baked goods on display.

 

“Oh um can I um please have a slice of um the banana bread?” The man types in the request before going behind the cage to get Harry's bread. Harry stands there awkwardly, hands shoved into the middle pocket of the hoodie. He can faintly hear Louis yelling behind him and he turns to see him standing in the corner, hip cocked and the arm that isn’t holding his phone is crossed over his chest. His brows are furrowed and he looks angry but Harry's attention is ripped away by the man behind the counter coming back.

 

“That ll be 5.87,” he says and Harry looks down to the tea and bread sitting on the counter. He nods and pulls the money from the hoodie and puts it out the counter. The man gives him the change and Harry nods again, _why do I keep nodding,_ he thinks to himself as he shoves the money into the hoodie pocket and picks up the tea and bread. He scans the shop, relieved to find that there really isn’t anyone there as he chooses a high table. He hops up onto one of the seats, his legs dangling as he opens the wrapper for the bread and pushes the tea across the table to where Louis would sit.

 

When he looks up for Louis he catches his eye and Louis offers him a light smile and holds one finger up to him. Harry nods _again_ and gives him a small smile. The next time Harry looks up it’s because he hears the sound of a chair scraping across the ground. He offers Louis a small smile as he settles into his chair and watches as the older man places his phone down on the table.

 

“Sorry about that, love,” He smiles and picks up the tea to blow on it. “Cheers.” He lifts the cup up towards Harry and then brings it back to his mouth to take a sip. Harry's right hand is shoved in the pocket of his hoodie while his left hand picks at the bread. He’s not sure why he got it, he really doesn’t have an appetite and it’s just a waste of Louis’ money but he felt like Louis would throw a fit if he didn’t get anything. He picks off a little piece of the corner and pops it into his mouth, chewing more times than necessary before swallowing it down.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Louis offers and Harry jumps at the sound of his voice. He’d almost forgotten Louis was there. Harry just shakes his head in response and continues to pick at the bread. Louis lets out a long frustrated sigh and sips at his tea again. “Harry I think it would be be-“ He doesn’t finish his sentence before his phone is buzzing again on the table. Louis sighs again and sets the tea down before picking up his phone.

 

“Hey mum,” he answers, raising the phone to his ear. “No I’m not home,” he starts to tell his mum and Harry looks around the shop trying to focus on anything but Louis’ phone conversation. He decides he needs the loo and pushes his chair back from the table, wincing at the loud noise. Louis gives him a confused look as Harry walks past him in the direction of the bathroom but he just ignores him, hes on the phone with his mum and it would be rude to interrupt.

 

In the bathroom Harry locks himself in the handicap stall, arms locked on the edge of the sink as he draws in shaky breaths. He looks up into the mirror and his lip starts to quiver, tears falling down his cheeks. All he can think about is what a mess he is, how awful he looks, how much he wishes it was him on the phone with his mum and not Louis, how much he wants to go home and sleep. He misses when his head wasn’t pounding because of how hard he’d been crying. He makes eye contact with himself in the mirror and just cries harder. He can’t comprehend how ugly he thinks he looks, how dead his eyes are, how pale his skin is. He’s shaking as he lowers himself to the ground to sob and he pulls his legs to his chest just like he had done on the bridge with Louis.

 

If it weren’t for Louis he would be dead right now, and the idea of that makes Harry’s heart clench and his body shake harder. He wants to be dead, he wants to stop crying and he just wants peace. He wants everything to go away and for the pain to stop. His body shakes with the force of his cries and he’s so loud that he doesn’t even hear the door bang open.

 

“Harry??” He hears but he can’t stop crying to answer or to tell Louis to go away. “Harry, love it’s me its Louis. May I come in? Please let me in, doll.” Louis is outside the stall now; Harry doesn’t even need to look to make sure he can just feel it in his body. He hears loud banging but Harry can’t tell if that’s Louis or just the noises his head is making. “Harry c’mon you’ve gotta let me in, let me take care of you. Please Harry, I’m here.” Louis is banging on the door now; loud enough so that it over powers the banging in Harry's head but the noise just makes Harry hurt more. _Stop_ , he thinks, _please stop._ He wants to say the words out loud but it’s like his brain has disconnected itself from Harry’s mouth and he can’t form the words, can’t push them out.

 

_Stop, make it stop,_ he cries harder but nothing stops, it just gets louder and louder. “Harry, I’m coming in!” Louis shouts and Harry can hear the noise Louis’ body makes as he drops to the floor. He shimmies his body underneath the door and once he’s in the stall, Louis crawls over to Louis as fast as possible. The next thing Harry knows he’s being surrounded by Louis, arms wrapped tight around him as if they’re trying to squeeze all of his broken pieces back together.

 

Louis rocks slowly, his grip staying strong around Harry. He’s muttering soft words, Harry can kind of hear him but he can’t make out the word, he’s not following along with what Louis’ saying. “I’m here for you Harry, I’m here. I’m going to make it stop.”

 

Harry doesn’t know how long they sit there for. He doesn’t stop crying for a while but Louis never ceases to be there, steady and warm and ready to help Harry. There are times where Harry feels like Louis has gone or like Louis’ grip has given up but if he moves one muscle, twitches one finger, he can feel Louis there again. Ready and willing.

 

Harry knows that it’s going to be like this for a while. He’ll have to tell Louis why he tried to jump, why his heart is breaking and how he doesn’t think it can ever be healed. He’ll tell Louis about school and home and he’ll cry when he remembers his mother and his sister and how they used to care so deeply for him. He’ll cry when he tells Louis about winters with his sister and summers with his friends. He’ll cry when he tells Louis about how his mother would dress he and his sister in matching costumes for Halloween six years in a row. He’ll cry when he remembers Christmas mornings, birthdays and anniversaries. He’ll sob like it’s the only thing he knows how to do when he tells Louis about the first boy he ever loved, the first boy he ever gave his heart to.

 

But somehow, through the tears and the angry and the _hurt_ , Harry knows that Louis will always be there. He will be strong and warm and _there_ and no matter what no one will ever compare to what Louis gives to Harry. There will be days full of laughter and tickles and loving kisses and there will be days full of anger and tears and calming kisses. Louis will rock Harry in his arms just like he did on the bridge the day he saved him and he will whisper soft things in his ears and brush his long hair from his face. He’ll be there, just like he always has been, to love and to hold Harry.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! feel free to leave any comments and/or corrections. all mistakes are my own xx


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